


Predatory Mammals

by YellowBlue



Series: American Wildlife [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Fighting As Foreplay, Large Cock, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Spit As Lube, Virginity Kink, mild breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowBlue/pseuds/YellowBlue
Summary: William "Bill" Williamson is a man of refined tastes - Except, he really isn't, but this is something he does not understand about himself. What he does learn, however, is that John Marston and Arthur Morgan are sometimes more than just brothers, that Hosea Matthews knows way more than he should and that Bill himself is more than 10 years too late for something he really wants to do.





	Predatory Mammals

William "Bill" Williamson was a man of refined tastes. Most people didn't know that, but it was true. He definitely knew how to enjoy the finer things in life, he was a true connoisseur of the finest and juiciest treats life has to offer.

 

Granted, his current lifestyle didn't give him the chance to indulge in his preferences and to be picky often, but that didn't mean he didn't know what was good. It only meant that he appreciated the small treasures and special trinkets he discovered and found more than anybody else.

 

Being forced to be on guard duty all night was one of the things that were definitely not high on his list of amenities and entertainments he would have liked to enjoy. A strong whiskey, a good cigar and some nice company, this would have been a lot more to his liking than standing in fox shit and staring into the darkness. At least it gave him some time to think and to smoke. Not one of the fancy brands that Morgan always carried around. Bill Williamson wasn't a pompous ass that needed to show everybody how special he was just by smoking something that came with little picture cards.

 

He liked his cigarettes and his whiskey sharp and strong, he liked his meat tender and bloody and when it came to the more pleasurable things in life he preferred the sweet taste of untouched maidens. Coming second best was out of question for Bill Williamson and spoiled goods were just so unappealing. Bill wanted them plump and ripe for plucking, untouched and tight. There was nothing better than breaking them in and making them moan for the first time.

 

The brown haired cowboy preferred women, of course, but sometimes - just sometimes - he liked the feeling of muscled legs, coarse hair and the hard angles of a man's body under his hands. It was a well kept secret that he didn't intend on sharing with anybody, especially not with his fellow gang members.

 

It was out of question that Bill didn't bed every male that threw himself at him. He had standards. There was a certain something they needed to have to arouse his interest. His boys shouldn't be too big or too burly. He liked it when he could push them down and put them in their place and when he could make them do what he wanted them to do. It was the alpha-male in him, his dominant nature, Bill was sure of that.

 

Bill knew he had a type. Skinny, dark haired and with a defiant look in their eyes. It didn't come as a surprise to him to realize that John Marston fit his type perfectly. The younger outlaw with the sometimes capricious temper had caught his attention from the very first day they had been introduced to each other. He was one of the small treasures Bill had discovered after joining Dutch's gang.

 

That Marston was a virgin when it came to the touch of other men was a fact. The ignorant carelessness that the had shown in the past when it came to the way other men looked at him was only one reason why Bill was sure that the boy was as inexperienced when it came to sex with men as he was when it came to swimming in a lake.

 

He still remembered the clueless look the younger had given him one night when he he had told him that some of the gang thought he was Dutch's pet. The look of utter incomprehension on John's face had stunned the brown haired man for a moment, until he realized that the young gunslinger was simply too innocent to get what Bill was talking about. Old Dutch had guarded his treasured Golden Boy a bit too well from the world and he was looking forward to introducing John to the more sinful activities that life had to offer.

 

Seducing John Marston would probably be a bit of a task, but it was surely worth it. The boy needed a firm hand, that was all, and Bill would make sure that he got a firm hand. He could already picture it in his mind: His cock sliding between trembling lips, the warm and wet feeling of that filthy little mouth around him, John's pink tongue licking him clumsily, tears sliding down the scarred cheeks when he went too deep. By God, he wanted to fuck that mouth until Marston couldn't breath anymore. The feeling would be fantastic!

 

The main event was something he was really looking forward to. Bill wasn't sure yet how he would fuck Marston. On his back with his legs spread wide, on his stomach with his hands tide behind his back, or maybe on the camp table soiling the stupid hide Morgan had put there. He could already hear it, the sweet moans and whimpers and the wood of the table splintering with every thrust into Marston's tight, little hole. Of course he would cry, virgins always cried when Big Bill had them for the first time, but Bill would make him take it. And if there would be a bit of blood he was sure that John-Boy could handle it.

 

Bill rubbed his half-hard dick through his pants and closed his eyes. Would Marston put up a struggle when Bill was too rough with him? Would he be compliant? Dropping to his knees willingly, begging Bill to finally take him? It didn't matter, but one thing was for sure: The feeling of the boy's tight, virgin ass clenching hard with every thrust would be enough to make him come in no time.

 

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he heard an angry shout that had him grab is weapon in a tight grip. Bill held his breath and listened. This wasn't good. If the Pinkertons had already found them they would be in massive trouble. Pressing himself against the nearest tree Bill stared into the darkness of the ticket, trees and bushes around him, trying to find the source of the noise. He could hear voices somewhere to his right and saw the dim glow of an oil lamp shining through the leaves and branches.

 

Another growled shout cut through the silence of the night and Bill spotted two figures that were standing close to each other at the opposite side of a small clearing. He held his breath as he moved slowly and silently forward. It wasn't easy for a man of his size, but he was hoping that the men were too busy with their shouting match to hear him approach.

 

With slow and careful steps he closed the distance between him and the two figures, trying to avoid any thick branches and leaf piles, anything that would give him away, until he was close enough to see and hear them clearly. The small boulder next to an old gnarled tree and a couple of dense bushes provided enough cover for Bill to watch the two figures without being spotted immediately.

 

"Stop pretending you're something better than me!" It was definitely Marston. The gravel-rough, raspy voice was unique.

 

Bill was also pretty sure he knew who the other man was. The annoyed huff that came from the other, bigger man could only belong to Dutch's other favorite boy. Marston and Morgan, Dutch's prized and perfect henchmen, were standing opposite of each other shouting and snarling at each other like two feral dogs and he would be damned if he missed a second of this.

 

“I don't have to pretend. I'm not the one who got Abigail pregnant and then decided to abandon both her and her son.” The contempt in the voice of the dark blond outlaw was unmistakable and Bill couldn't even hold it against him. When John had left them for almost one year everybody had thought he was gone for good.

 

“Oh, right! You're only the one who's fucking the guy who got her pregnant,” John replied acidly, throwing his hands up in frustration.

 

Bill could feel his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Did Marston really just imply that Morgan was screwing him? He must have gotten that wrong.

 

The warm orange light of the oil lamp allowed him to see the arrogant smirk on Arthur's lips as he took one step closer to to the younger man. “I only took what you offered,” Arthur replied, his hand cupping the scarred cheek of the younger man.

 

With an unintelligible curse Marston slapped the hand away and lunged at Arthur. His fist would have connected with the jaw of the older man if he hadn't expected it. Before the brunet had the chance to make a step backwards again a hand had gripped his wrist and one second later he found himself pressed up against the trunk of a weathered old tree. Arthur's hand that was suddenly around his throat was nothing more than a threat and left enough room for John to breath freely.

 

“You think you're the only one who's … available?” Arthur asked, riling up the dark-haired man even more. The smirk was still lingering on his lips and it made Bill wonder what the man saw when he looked at John who was by now seething with anger.

 

“You think anybody would be interested in your sorry ass if you don't pay them first?” The bite in John's voice was hard to miss. His hand closed around Arthur's wrist, testing the hold the other man hand around his neck, but not trying to fight him off yet.

 

“What's it to you if I pay them or not?” Arthur sounded genuinely curious, like the idea of John caring what he did and with whom he slept never occurred to him before.

 

“Is this what you'll do from now on? Fuck every harlot and tramp that bats their eyes at you? I hope your dick will rot off, you impotent bastard! I bet you'd sleep with a-- " Arthur had enough of John's little rant. With a roll of his eyes and an annoyed huff he slapped a hand over John's mouth and Bill didn't even need to hear the words to know that the younger was uttering colorful curses behind the fingers.

 

The dark blond cowboy was astonishingly patient as he waited for the other to stop struggling against his hold. With a smile still tucking at his lips he let his thump stroke over John's neck and pressed his middle and index finger of his other hand that was still over John's mouth slowly between the younger man's lips when John had calmed down.

 

"What is this, John? Jealousy?" Arthur asked half-jokingly, because jealousy was never an option for them. Not when John was fucking Abigail and not when he definitely shouldn't care what Arthur did in the meantime.

 

Bill could see John grin around the fingers in his mouth before he bit the older man hard. With a sharp hiss Arthur wrenched his hand free, inspecting the bleeding wound right below the knuckle of his middle finger.

 

“Fuck you, Morgan!” John was spitting the words, a red sheen covering his teeth when he gave the older man a cocky grin. The triumphant smile was wiped of his face when the older man pushed him hard against the tree trunk behind him and grabbed his chin in a tight and bruising grip. There was a moment of tense silence between them and Bill could only guess what John saw in the blue orbs of the other man. He had seen Arthur threaten other people with a painful death for less.

 

“Bite me again and you'll not like the consequences,” the Arthur growled against John's lips, a dark and dangerous tone in his voice. It sounded more of a threat than the hand that was clamped around his throat and Bill couldn't understand the look he saw in the face of the younger. It wasn't fear, it looked almost like anticipation, like a challenge.

 

With one hand still wrapped firmly around the slender neck of the dark haired outlaw Arthur opened the gun belt of the other man and let it drop to the floor with a muffled clank.

 

“Here?” John sounded unsure and hesitant as he looked around. Bill ducked behind the bolder in front of him, hoping that John hadn't spotted the sudden movement. It seemed luck was on his side.

 

“Why not?” The older man answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “Or are you no longer interested in my sorry ass if I don't pay you first?” He threw John's words back at him with an amused and almost playful smirk. "Maybe I should pay you?"

 

John's dark eyes studied the man in front of him for a couple of seconds. There seemed to be a shift in the mood in him like he wasn't sure if he wanted Arthur to continue what he was doing, but also unwilling to push him away. “You're a bastard.” He hissed, even though his words lacked the bite from before.

 

“You still want me though,” Arthur replied, planting a small kiss on John's cheek and Bill wondered if there was more to this mocking gesture when John scowled at the older man but didn't pull away. “Never saying no when I want to fuck you.” Another kiss followed the first one, this time on the prominent scar on John's nose.

 

John didn't reply. He watched silently as the older man loosened the the hold he had around his neck, the uncertain look still lingering in his eyes. Arthur's hands skimmed over the cotton of the shirt the young outlaw was wearing before he opened the the buttons. He paused, watching the young man with a thoughtful frown, his hands hovering over the last button as he spoke: “Thinking about saying no now?” John just shook his head, still unwilling to say what was really on his mind.

 

With a low murmur that sounded more like a sigh the dark blond man took hold of the narrow waist of the younger to pull him away from the tree and against his body. John's arms were around his neck in an instance, pressing himself tight against the broader frame of the older man and mouthing his chin and jaw hungrily until Arthur found his lips with his own. Their kiss was wet and fierce and Bill just couldn't look away when he saw their tongues tangling with each other and their teeth nipping sharply.

 

Bill knew he should have already left. This was not for him to see, but he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene that unraveled in front of him. The urge to see more had him rooted to the spot and he tried to keep his breathing even when he saw how Arthur's fingers were running over John's sides, opening the suspenders and unbuttoning his trousers, baring his hips and lower back until the soft curve of the small round buttocks stopped the downwards slide of he old pair of jeans.

 

For a split second Bill imagined what it would be like if he could leave his hiding place. The sight before him was tempting him so much to reach out and pull the pants down until the perfect little twin globes would be revealed. He wanted to touch, taste and feel the what the two men unknowingly offered to him.

 

Arthur rubbed the spot right under John's tailbone before slipping his fingers between his ass cheeks. The low riding pants made it impossible for Bill to see what was happening, but he could tell by the slight hitch of breath when Arthur breached the body of the young gunslinger.

 

“Told you that you'll still be nice and loose for me after last night,” Arthur commented with a deep chuckle, leaving a line of small red bite marks on John's neck.

 

The pair of jeans suddenly slipped lower and Bill could see two of Arthur's finger's buried deep inside John's twitching hole as the older man grabbed one of the round globes and gave it a hard squeeze. Arthur whispered something that was too low for Bill to catch the words, making John clench around the fingers inside him and Bill could actually feel a corresponding clench his his belly.

 

John's hands were on Arthur's pants, trying and failing to open the buttons with impatient and trembling fingers when Arthur slipped his own fingers out of John and pushed the younger against the tree behind him. “Turn around. Spread your legs,” he instructed. Without waiting for a response Arthur manhandled John into position, kicking his legs apart, uncaring of the pants still pooled around his ankles.

 

With a soothing little murmur the dark blond cowboy spread John's cheeks apart and spit on the small quivering hole. The sight of the thick glob of spit running down the crack of John's ass had Bill grab himself though his pants to stop himself from coming. It was dirty and absolutely filthy, it was beyond socially and morally acceptable and he wanted nothing more than to be in Arthur's place as he saw the older man ease his spit-slick finger into John's already raw and red looking opening.

 

His attention was drawn to Arthur when he heard him open his own pants and free his erection with a relieved sound that was a mixture between a moan and a hiss. The sight made Bill swallow thickly around the sudden lump in his throat. He had seen Morgan naked before, but never like this, never hard, never with his hand around the thick girth of his shaft and the fingers of his other hand buried inside John.

 

“It's going to be a bit of a rough ride,” Arthur commented as he spit into his palm and slicked his dick up before he positioned himself behind the younger.

 

The pained pleasure on John's face as Arthur's cock sank into him made Bill palm his dick through his pants. He had to clasp a hand over his mouth to muffle the groan that threatened to escape him. The sight of the small wet hole stretching wider and wider around the glistening shaft of the other man looked more arousing than everything Bill had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn't have the patience that Arthur was showing when he let go of John's hips and watched as the younger man started to move on his own.

 

With impatient little thrusts John was slowly impaling himself on the thick length, biting into the skin of his own wrist and trying to muffle the moans and groans that threatened to wake up the whole camp. The fantasy or an untouched virginal John that Bill had cultivated over the the last weeks and months went up in smoke as he saw the dark haired man sink down on Arthur's cock. Marston was definitely not a virgin if he could take a cock of that size in one go. Or almost one go, he was visibly struggling with the last inches.

 

"There's still a bit left, darling,” Arthur commented and Bill saw the glint of teeth when Arthur's mouth twisted into the same teasing grin he had already seen earlier. The hands of the older man roamed over John's back before he pushed the unbuttoned shirt up and bared more of John's skin to both Arthur's and Bill's view.

 

John was breathing hard under Arthur. His hands were clawing at the bark of the tree in front of him when he felt the older man roll his hips slowly, not really pushing, but letting him feel that there was more to come.

 

“What will it be?” Questioned Arthur. “Are you going to give it to me or do you want me to take it?" Another teasing thrust, followed by another shaky exhale of breath by John.

 

“Gimme a sec'nd.” Bill could barely hear John's reply as he slurred the words against the skin of his arm, his forehead resting on the rough tree bark. Arthur was digging his thumps into the small of his back, making the younger practically purr with pleasure as he relaxed around the thick length inside him.

 

“Not going to happen. Last chance.” The grin on Arthur's lips got wider as he slapped one ass cheek hard, forcing an angry yelp out of the younger.

 

Bill wasn't even aware that he was holding his breath when he watched John widen his stance as good as the could with his pants still pooling around his ankles and roll his hips, eyes clenching shut when he felt the last inches of Arthur's cock slip into his body. Both men swallowed hard and bit back a groan when Arthur's hips met John's ass cheeks. The bearded man could only imagine the hot tightness that Morgan must be feeling being buried deep inside the slender body of the younger.

 

His hard and throbbing dick pulsing against the fabric of his pants was an unpleasant reminder of current situation Bill had brought upon himself. It was unfair Bill decided. Entirely and absolutely unfair! John looked everything he had ever imagined. Desperate to be fucked and overwhelmed by it at the same time and Morgan – even though Bill hated to admit it – was made for this. He looked like he belonged between Marston's skinny legs, his pants slipping over the plump, round buttocks, the muscles under shirt and pants working every time he shifted slightly and his stupidly thick cock buried deep inside the man that was supposed to be Bill's conquest.

 

The dark blond cowboy licked a wet stripe over John's shoulder when he was settled fully inside him, clearly enjoying the sensation of being buried deep inside the delicious and tight heat of John's ass. “Look at you.” Arthur was brushing his fingers over the chest and stomach of the young outlaw as he spoke. “Always so eager and ready for me. My perfect little whore.” He let his fingertips slide over the hard dick between the younger man's legs with teasing strokes.

 

“Shut up. I'm not a whore!” The annoyance that was resonating in John's raspy and breathless voice made the older man chuckle. Arthur tapped the chin of the dark haired man and waited until John turned his head towards him. The kiss they shared was gentle and slow, a stark contrast to Arthur's words and to the way he had treated him earlier. It had Bill wonder what exactly it was that he was watching, because he wasn't sure anymore that this was nothing more that a quick fuck for the two men.

 

“Just mine then.” Arthur's words were followed by another gentle kiss. “My darling harlot. Mine alone,” he murmured, nuzzling into the curve of his neck as he slowly started to move inside the younger.

 

John leaned his head back on Arthur's shoulder, mouth open, eyes half closed, melting against the broad frame of the other man who coaxed the sweetest sounds out of him. John looked so pliant and pretty under Arthur's hands that Bill could feel this jealous and spiteful voice roar inside his head.

 

Arthur was still running his hands over the body of the dark haired man when he suddenly stopped and went still, slowing the movements of his hands and his hips, but staying buried deep inside John. He took a shuddering, deep breath before he spoke with a rough and tight voice: “Gimme your hand, Johnny. Got a treat for ya.” He took John's hand and put it on his pelvis of the younger before slowly pressing down.  The helpless whimper that John made when Arthur thrust into him again and the shudder that went through his whole body as his knees buckled under him made Bill wonder what had happened. He had his answer a couple of seconds later.

 

“You feel that?” Arthur asked in a low voice, holding the dark haired outlaw steady by his hips as he pushed into him again, coaxing another desperate sound out of the younger man.

 

“Yeah.” John's voice trembled so much that Bill could barely understand him. “Can feel you moving inside me.” His knees buckled again when he felt the small pump inside his lower belly grow more prominent as Arthur bottomed out again. “Fuck, Arthur, it's so deep!” John threw his head back with a load groan, biting his lips hard and screwing his eyes shut again when the the dark blond outlaw started to fuck him with hard and deep strokes.

 

Arthur changed the angle of his thrusts and Bill just knew that he had hit John's sweet spot straight on when a shout was punched out of the young man and the older outlaw had to sling one arm over his waist and chest to keep him in place. The the broken-off little moans and sounds that John was making turned into distressed noises when Arthur's let his fingers wander over his chest before he closed them in a loose grip around his neck.

 

“It's OK, love, you can take it.” A breathless moan followed his words as Arthur pressed his face against the unruly mop of dark hair, sliding deep into the younger man's body and ignoring the hoarse whimper that John made. With the next thrust he increased the pressure around John's neck, squeezing softly and making the young outlaw writhe and jerk against the hold Arthur had on him.

 

Bill watched with rapt attention as the older man let his teeth sink into John's neck and left an angry looking mark on his skin, the row of his teeth clearly visible in the light of the single lamp that was flickering feebly. He didn't think he could move or even look away now, not with the sight of John's hips starting to move with the rhythm Arthur had set for both if them, fucking himself back on the thick cock inside him.

 

The low murmur of Arthur's voice was drowned by the choked moans and the twitchy shuffle of John's boots on the ground as the older man continued to fuck into the body of the young outlaw with slow, but deep and hard thrusts, stopping himself only when John tried to pry off his hand from his neck.

 

“Too much?” Arthur's voice was gentle. He was holding the young outlaw tight against his body and slowed his thrusts into languid rolls of his hips. John only nodded, eyes wet and unfocused, gasping and panting when Arthur eased the pressure around his neck and moaning softly when he felt the older man suck another bruise into his skin, this time right on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. He was falling apart on Arthur's cock and by the looks of it he loved every second of it.

 

Bill saw the clear sticky drops leak from John's untouched dick and drip down onto the forest floor. He could feel his own dick drool inside his pants and spit gather in his mouth at the sight. John looked absolutely wanton and so goddamn perfect in Arthur's arms that Bill wanted this ruined, soiled and used boy more than ever before.

 

John's head dropped forward, dark messy and greasy hair falling into his face when the older man took his hands and put them on the tree trunk in front of him as he continued to fuck him with the slow and steady pace from before. Bill knew that neither he nor John would probably last longer than the next 3 minutes, not with the sight of Arthur's hand sliding into the dark locks of the younger, pulling his head back and making him moan and choke out Arthur's name.

 

“Don't hide your face, Johnny,” Arthur murmured against the already bruised neck of the young outlaw. He pressed a kiss to one of the dark red marks there followed by another small bite that had John groan deep in his chest. “I'm sure Williamson really gets off on seeing you like this.”

 

Bill as well as John froze when they heard the words. The bearded man could feel the rifle he was holding slip in his sweaty palms and he would later deny that he had ever made such an undignified noise when John's lust blown and furious dark eyes met his.

 

“Seen enough, Bill?” Arthur didn't even look up when he addressed the man that was still hiding behind the the bushes only a couple of feet away from them. A sharp hiss escaped him when he felt john tense up and clench hard around him, his finger digging into the skin of John's ass cheeks and pulling the small round globes apart. With a growled “Relax, darling” he continued to roll his hips against the ass of the dark haired man, watching his wet dick slide in and out of the stretched and puffy hole, seemingly uninterested in Bill who was still standing there with his mouth agape and his dick bulging inside his pants.

 

“Piss of, Williamson, or I will gut you!” John shouted, his hand going towards his hip where his gun would usually be if his gun belt wouldn't lie next to him on the forest floor.

 

Bill didn't hesitate. The last thing he heard as he turned around and stumbled through the bushes and shrubs back to the camp was a chuckled “Good boy” from Arthur and another soft groan from John.

 

There was a gap in his memory after that. It had been too much for his battered brain seeing Arthur and John together like _this_. The next thing he consciously saw and heard was Hosea who wished him a good morning. Bill blinked as he took in his surroundings. The sun was already high on the horizon, a warm bottle of beer was clasped in his sweaty hands and he could feel the disgusting feeling of tried fluids caking the inside of his pants and thigh.

 

The memory of the Arthur's spit slicked cock sliding slowly into John's small pink hole flashed in front of Bill's eyes and made his breath catch in his throat. This had really happened. It wasn't just a dream. Bill put the beer bottle to his lips and realized only now that he had never opened it.

 

"What happened?" Hosea eventually asked, apparently interested in what had put the brown haired man in such a state of shock that he wasn't even able to open his beer bottle.

 

"Did you know ... they are ..." Bill began, still trying to find the right words to describe what he had just witnessed. "Morgan and Marston, I mean. Did you know they were ... " He moved his hands in a groping motion, hoping that the older man would get what he was trying to say.

 

"Involved with each other?" Hosea fished the sentence and Bill could only nod, even though he would have used another word to describe what they were doing. "Of course I know. They've been together for years now. They're usually more careful not to get caught, tough."

 

With a pondering look on his face Hosea sipped his morning coffee. The two men sat in silence for a while, the older one wondering what had caused their reckless behavior and why they had decided to blow caution to the wind and the younger still stunned by what he had seen and heard in the last hours.

 

"Haven't you seen the marks? The bruises on John's neck?” Hosea asked, clearly stunned that the other man really didn't have any clue at all what was going on between John and Arthur when the two never tried to keep it a secret. "What did you think they were? Some sort of injury he got when he fell off his horse?" A wheezy laugh followed his words.

 

"I don't know.” Bill scratched his beard, feeling like an idiot when the older man looked at him with a disbelieving look in his eyes. “A rash or something?” He wished he had kept his mouth shut when Hosea started laughing.

 

"A rash!" His exclamation was drowned in a violent cough and more wheezy laughter.

 

"But Abigail--" With an annoyed groan the conman interrupted him before he could voice his doubts that the woman would allow this kind of relationship between the two men.

 

“She knows better than to get involved in this. And you should too.” The knowing look that Hosea gave him made Bill evade the gaze of the older man. “If John doesn't do it, Arthur will definitely not hesitate to kill you. He is territorial when it comes to John.”

 

The stern and calculating gaze of the other man stopped Bill from asking further questions. Not that he wanted to. He had seen and heard too much already.

 

John and Arthur fucked from time to time. This didn't make them special or interesting. It wasn't like he had _enjoyed_ seeing the two men engage in this reprehensible and disgraceful act. It wasn't like he had actually _wanted_ to watch them. He just hadn't found the right moment to leave without being spotted by the two men, that was all.

 

Bill's stomach did a somersault when John walked past him with a small limp in his stride and a dark, glowering look in his face. The neckerchief he was wearing did not fully cover the dark red and violet bruises on his neck.

 

The sudden guilty heat that was coiling inside stomach made him curse under his breath. It was their fault, Bill decided. He was still in shock from what he had seen. It had nothing to do with curiosity or interest or the excitement he had felt that night, because Bill was absolutely sure that he didn't want to have anything to do with either of them or with what they were doing. He was a man of refined taste after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing more kinky John/Arthur smut, because nobody is writing it for me and I'm not even a bit sorry for making Arthur into a total pervert, John into wanking material for the half of the men at camp and Bill into a dumbass.


End file.
